


Smells Like Maldis

by flowersforgraves



Series: hc_bingo round 8 [7]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: In which John is fading.prompt: disappearing





	Smells Like Maldis

He can feel himself fading.

When he looks down he’s practically translucent, and when Rygel swats at him with a cracker, it goes right through him.

“Crichton,” D’argo says gruffly. “What would you have us do?”

John flings an arm out. “Can you even hear me, D?”

“Yes,” the Luxan confirms.

“Coming through loud and clear,” Chiana adds, voice shaking a bit. She’s gripping D’argo’s hand tightly, as if by holding onto him she can make John stay.

He gives her his best smile, which is, admittedly, pretty weak right now. “Zhaan? Any ideas?”

“No John, unfortunately I still have no idea what’s causing this,” Zhaan says, twisting her hands together worriedly. “Aeryn is still talking to Pilot about it, but I do not think there will be much success there.”

John grimaces. “Okay. So where do we stand on this?”

“We don’t know what’s going on, we don’t know how to make it stop, and any of us could be next,” Rygel says. 

“Shut up, Ryg’,” Chiana says. “No one asked you.”

“You can have whatever Aeryn doesn’t want,” John says, trying to joke. “For however long you last, that is.”

He regrets this almost immediately, because Chiana looks like she’s going to cry. “Hey, Pip, it’s okay. We’re gonna fix this,” he says, reaching out to cup her jaw. Of course, he’s forgotten that he’s nothing more than an image now, and his hand passes right through her.

D’argo shifts impatiently. “And why can’t we just starburst away from here?”

“Because,” Aeryn says, striding into the room, “we don’t know if Crichton’s going to be able to come with us. Besides, even if he does, what stops him from disappearing the rest of the way?”

“Speaking of,” John says, “why aren’t I falling through the floor?”

“You aren’t expecting to,” Pilot says from the holo-emitter.

“Fair point,” John admits.

He taps his fingers on the back of his opposite hand. “Does anyone else think this smells like Maldis?”

D’argo frowns. “All I smell is Sebacean,” he says, looking at Aeryn.

John bites down hard on his lip to keep from laughing. He’s really not in the mood to stop himself from becoming hysterical, and he knows from experience that laughter is a gateway drug to hysteria. “I meant,” he says testily, “that this seems like a Maldis thing to do.”

“Agreed,” Zhaan says. “But he shouldn’t have been able to coalesce so fast.”

“Then if it’s not him, who is it?” John asks.

“I don’t know, John,” Zhaan says softly. “I’m sorry.”

D’argo’s hand, the one Chiana’s not holding onto, clenches into a fist. “I for one am not going to stand around doing nothing.”

“What exactly do you plan to do?” Rygel asks. “It’s not like that big sword of yours is going to be of any help.”

“I’ll figure something out,” D’argo growls.

“No,” Aeryn says, “ _we_ will. All of us.”

Even as John feels himself slipping further away, he smiles. He couldn’t ask for better friends.


End file.
